The Highway Racing

I died in a damp basement. Covered in wounds, my throat was hoarse—I couldn't make a sound. Through the haze, I thought I saw Eric Jones's face again. He was dressed in a sharp suit, looking down at me with utter coldness in his eyes. "If you hadn't stopped her back then, how could Rachel Xavier have ended up like this?" That sentence pierced my already shattered heart like a poisoned needle. Before my consciousness completely faded into darkness, I had only one thought—if I could live it all over, I'd never bother myself with these idiots again. Beep beep!! The sharp blast of a car horn yanked me back to reality. I trembled in shock, instinctively clutching my bag tighter. Looking up, Rachel Xavier in the passenger seat was twisting her head, furiously shouting at the car behind. Her hair was styled in big waves, nails painted bright red, and now she was pointing a finger at the car behind, saliva nearly splattering onto the window. "How dare you honk with a cheap car? Don't you see we're riding in a luxury vehicle?" "You clueless fool, today you'll learn a lesson!" After saying that, she turned back to Eric Jones in the driver's seat, her voice instantly softening, carrying a hint of aggrieved teasing. "Eric, look at him bullying me! Hurry and stop him—don't let him win over us!" Eric Jones tightened his grip on the steering wheel, his face wearing a desperate smile. "Rachel, don't be mad. I'll block him right now. I promise he won't even catch a glimpse of our tail lights." I sat in the back seat, staring at this all-too-familiar scene, my heart pounding fiercely. I was really reborn. Reborn on the day Eric Jones and Rachel Xavier were recklessly racing in the highway's passing lane. I glanced out the window; the license plate of the car behind was crystal clear—JA88888. In my past life, it was seeing that license plate that made me realize the car behind belonged to Calvin Luke's crew. Who's Calvin Luke? He's the one nobody in the Capital City dares to cross. Rumor has it, back then, if someone got in his way, he made sure they disappeared from the city entirely. Back then, I still clung to a sliver of hope, thinking I could talk Eric Jones down. I told him how dangerous that license plate was, warned him about the risks of cutting in on the highway. Eric was annoyed at first, but I convinced him eventually, and he finally gave way. I thought I had saved them—and myself. But what happened in the end? Rachel Xavier threw a fit for days after Eric Jones asked her to step aside, claiming Eric didn't care about her. She ended up drowning her sorrows at a bar, got drunk in the streets, and was beaten to death by some thugs. Eric Jones held Rachel's lifeless body, crying like the world was ending, then turned around and proposed to me. I was so naive back then, thinking he'd finally seen reason and wanted to build a life with me. Until on our wedding night, he drugged me and sold me to human traffickers. He said it was all my fault that Rachel died. If I hadn't held her back, Rachel wouldn't have gotten so angry and gone to the bar; If I hadn't been afraid of that license plate, he wouldn't have given way, and Rachel Xavier wouldn't have felt so wronged. Now that I think about it, I was truly blind to fall for a man who can't tell right from wrong. "Viola Lincoln, what are you doing?" Rachel's voice dragged me out of my thoughts. She turned her head, eyes dripping with contempt, as if I were some insignificant trash. "What? You think it was wrong for me to have Eric block him?" Eric Jones quickly backed Rachel up, his tone thick with loyalty to her. "Viola, you're just a coward." "Rachel just wanted to teach that rude guy a lesson. It's no big deal. Don't ruin our mood." Watching them chime in together like that, the hatred inside me nearly spilled over. But I knew it wasn't the right moment to snap.